It was the words she had never thought she’d hear. High-pitched and terrible, Voldemort spoke and Ginny’s world shattered. “Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.
“The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together.”
Ginny swayed on the spot and Hermione reached out a hand to steady her. She didn’t- she couldn’t- believe it. Harry would never have run away and he couldn’t be dead. But, as she looked around the Great Hall, she found that she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him. She looked at Ron and Hermione.
“When did you last see him?” she whispered, afraid her voice would crack if she spoke any louder. Both of them were silent. Ginny feared the worst. She looked down at Fred, feeling that she couldn’t lose them both.
The sounds of marching feet and gleeful voices came into hearing. As one, she, Ron, and Hermione ran for the front doors. But McGonagall got there first.
“NO!” she screamed, a sound more terrible than Ginny had ever dreamed she could make. She saw Bellatrix double over in laughter, glorifying at the defenders’ despair. Then, her eyes fell on Harry, limp and lifeless in Hagrid’s arms.
“Harry! HARRY!” she cried, heart breaking in two. She heard Ron and Hermione yell with her and then the whole of Hogwarts took up the cry. They yelled abuse at the Death Eaters and screamed Harry’s name until-
“SILENCE!” cried Voldemort. There was a flash of light. Ginny’s voice cut off mid-sentence. Hers wasn’t the only one- all of the defenders were suddenly silent. “It is over,” Voldemort continued. “Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!”
Hagrid was gentle as he lowered Harry onto the grass. Ginny wanted to run forward, to grab Harry, take him back to the castle. He deserved to lie next to Fred and Lupin and Tonks, not here where he could be mocked and belittled.
“You see?” said Voldemort, beginning to pace. “Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!”
Ginny opened her mouth to shout back at him but Ron yelled first, “He beat you!” The Silencing Charm that Voldemort had laid down was broken and she was able to scream at the Death Eaters. She didn’t even know what she said but how dare Voldemort claim that Harry Potter was nothing?
There was another bang and flash of light and again, abruptly, her voice was extinguished.
“He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds,” Voldemort stated. There was a smile on his cruel face and he oozed delight for his lie. Ginny met Neville’s eyes. She knew that they were both thinking the same thing and she gave him a slight nod. “Killed while trying to save himself-”
Neville sprinted forward and threw himself at Voldemort. Voldemort moved just in time- his wand raised and Neville was thrown backwards, his wand flying out of his hand. Neville hit the ground and groaned but Voldemort simply laughed. He took a cursory glance at his challenger’s wand and then tossed it aside.
“And who is this?” he hissed. “Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?”
Bellatrix giggled. Ginny gagged; the sound was even worse than Fleur’s laugh.
“It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?”
Neville twitched angrily. Ginny remembered the people she had met in St. Mungo’s two years earlier- the sad eyes, the wan figures, the empty gum wrapper. Anger swelled in her. She took a step forward.
Someone grabbed her arm, holding her back. She glanced behind her. George was clutching her, eyes terrified. “Not you too,” he whispered.
Neville rose to his feet, slowly, painfully. He stood in between the survivors and the Death Eaters, defiant though unarmed, a shield for those behind him. His hands curled into fists.
“Ah, yes, I remember,” Voldemort said quietly, stepping closer to Neville. “But you are a pureblood, aren’t you, my brave boy?” From him, the adjective sounded mocking and wrong.
“So what if I am?” said Neville loudly, projecting for all to hear. Something flashed in Voldemort’s eyes. Ginny suspected that he had wanted this to be a private conversation.
“You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.”
Ginny couldn’t believe the nerve of Voldemort. For him to beg Neville to join him after his followers had tortured Neville’s parents? It was unbelievable.
“I’ll join you when hell freezes over. Dumbledore’s Army!” Neville shouted.
“DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY!” Ginny yelled back. Fifty voices cheered the call with her. It seemed that Voldemort’s Silencing Charms were unable to hold them.
“Very well,” Voldemort replied quietly. The crowd fell silent and many took a step back for the soft acquiescence held more danger than the loudest curse. “If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On you head, be it.”
He waved his wand. A second later, Ginny ducked to avoid a shower of glass as something broke through a window. It looked like an oversized bird flying through the dim light of dawn. The item landed in Voldemort’s hand. As he shook it out, Ginny realized that it was the Hogwarts Sorting Hat. But what could he possibly do with the Hat?
Voldemort proclaimed, “There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won’t they, Neville Longbottom?” He pointed his wand at Neville and the boy froze in place. Then, he forced the hat onto Neville’s head. The hat was still too big for Neville, even all these years later, and it slipped over his eyes.
Ginny stirred restlessly. She didn’t know what Voldemort had planned but she knew it couldn’t be good. Beside her, Luna shifted from foot to foot. All throughout the assembled crowd, she could sense signs of movement. The defenders of Hogwarts were not yet defeated.
As one, the Death Eaters raised their wands. The movements ceased, held at bay by the threat of instant retaliation.
“Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me,” said Voldemort. He sounded almost cheerful and Ginny shuddered. With a flick of his wand, the Sorting Hat burst into flames.
Screams split the still dawn. The flames spread to Neville, held to the spot as he was. Ginny broke free of her brother’s hold and ran for Neville, Luna beside her. She dodged a curse from one of the Death Eaters. She was almost there when several things happened at the same moment.
Far off in the distance, there came a loud uproar as what sounded like hundreds of people swarmed over the walls and thundered toward the castle.
Grawp lumbered around the castle, yelling, “HAGGER!”
Voldemort’s giants roared back at Grawp and ran at him as the earth shook.
There was the sound of many bows twanging and the centaurs exploded from the forest.
The Death Eaters broke rank as arrows sprouted at their feet.
And Neville- Neville broke free of the curse on him. The flaming Sorting Hat fell off of him and he pulled a glittering, silver sword from its depths- a sword that Ginny knew very well.
There was silence from the assembled crowd as every eye turned to Neville. He turned and swung at Voldemort’s great snake. The head spun high into the air as the body thudded to the ground. Voldemort screamed but no one could hear above the clash of the giants and the roar of the oncoming crowd.
Then, above the crowd, Hagrid yelled, “HARRY! HARRY- WHERE’S HARRY?”
Ginny froze. How could Harry have disappeared? She feared that he had been trampled beneath a giant’s foot. But, no, the giants were moving away from the castle, not just fighting Grawp but Buckbeak and the thestrals as well. She saw blood pouring from one of the giant’s eyes as Buckbeak scratched at it.
Then there were Charlie and Horace Slughorn storming up the castle steps, leading an army of witches and wizards.
She felt herself being buffeted into the Great Hall. Bellatrix darted past her into the room. Her gaze focused on the witch. This would be the one to beat, the one least likely to fall easily, the one who could bring down the entire castle.
Ginny looked around and spotted Hermione and Luna close by. “Hermione! Luna!” she shouted. They both turned to her. “With me!”
Together, the three fought their way to where Bellatrix dueled with one of the Hogsmeade shopkeepers. Hermione ducked as the shopkeeper flew over her head, blasted back by a Killing Curse. Luna almost tripped over a house-elf; Ginny wondered when they had joined the fight.
“Circle around her,” Ginny ordered the other two. “Bellatrix!” Her attention caught, Bellatrix turned toward her new opponent.
Before she could fully turn, Ginny shouted, “Reducto!”
Bellatrix merely swayed to avoid the spell. “You’ll have to do better than that, girly,” she taunted.
“Stupefy!” Luna called from behind her and Bellatrix was forced to avoid the Stunning Spell. She spun to face the new attacker.
The masterfully aimed spell continued straight toward Ginny. It was unfortunate, Ginny thought, that Luna’s aim had been spot-on as she dodged.
At the same moment, Hermione, the only one who could successfully cast silent spells, cast her own spell. Ginny was left to wonder what it might have been as it missed Bellatrix by a few inches. But the diversion had worked- Bellatrix was distracted from Luna.
Bellatrix backed up, her gaze flickering between the three girls. She seemed far too delighted to have multiple opponents. “A blood traitor and a Mudblood,” she raved. “How wonderful!”
Ginny shot another spell at her. “Shut up,” she snapped.
“Ooh, not very friendly,” Bellatrix replied, sending a spell off at Luna while simultaneously blocking a curse from Hermione.
Ginny said nothing as she focused on bringing Bellatrix down. For a few minutes, the Dark witch continued to jeer and taunt the young girls facing her but, as none of them replied in turn, she too fell silent.
As Bellatrix blocked another curse from Ginny and spun to fire a spell at Hermione, Luna caught Ginny’s eye. She looked worried. Ginny could guess why- they’d been battling for several minutes and they were no closer to defeating Bellatrix than when they’d started.
Something ruffled her hair and heat seared her face. Ginny realized that the Killing Curse had missed her by only an inch. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she realized how close to death she had come.
“NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!”
Ginny turned to see her mother charging up the aisle, throwing off her cloak, wand at the ready. Bellatrix cackled. “OUT OF MY WAY!” Mrs. Weasley ordered the girls. Ginny grabbed Luna’s arm and dragged her out of the way of the two witches.
Mrs. Weasley’s wand slashed the air. Bellatrix countered. The two witches began to duel. Ginny watched terrified as her mother fought the darkest witch of the century. But it seemed that Mrs. Weasley would not go down easily; she was fighting to kill. The smile on Bellatrix’s face slid away and morphed into a snarl. The floor at their feet cracked and sizzled at the heat from the wands.
Ginny saw Dean running forward to help her mother. She caught hold of his arm and pulled him back just in time. A curse barely missed him.
Her mother yelled to the few students trying to help, “No! Get back! GET BACK! She is mine!”
The three girls backed up until they hit the wall. Hundreds now lined the walls of the Great Hall, watching Mrs. Weasley duel Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort duel McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley. Ginny yearned to join her mother, to help her, but she knew that this was her mother’s fight.
“What will happen to your children when I’ve killed you?” Bellatrix taunted. She danced around Mrs. Weasley’s curses, eyes glittering. “When Mummy’s gone the same way as Freddie?”
“You. Will. Never. Touch. Our. Children. Again!” Mrs. Weasley shouted.
Bellatrix laughed. Ginny gasped, recognizing the laugh. It was the same one she’d heard before Sirius had died. She knew, a second before it happened, that her mother’s curse would soar under Bellatrix’s arm.
The laugh halted, the dark eyes bulged. Bellatrix took a final breath and then toppled.
The crowd roared. Voldemort screamed. McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn were blasted back by the might of Voldemort’s fury. His wand raised to point at Mrs. Weasley. Ginny started to run forward, to protect her mother.
But someone yelled, “Protego!” The Shield Charm bloomed in the middle of the hall and Mrs. Weasley was pushed back to the wall.
Ginny’s eyes were on the figure that appeared seemingly from nowhere, tossing the Invisibility Cloak aside. “Harry!” she cried. All around the Great Hall, people were repeating her cry.
As quickly as the yells had begun, however, they were stifled. The crowd held its breath because Voldemort and Harry had begun to circle each other. Fear fell over the assembled watchers. Ginny looked down, afraid to watch.
“I don’t want anyone else to try to help,” Harry called. Ginny’s head snapped back up. How could he mean that? “It’s got to be like this. It’s got to be me.”
“Potter doesn’t mean that,” Voldemort scoffed. “That isn’t how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?”
“Nobody. There are no more Horcruxes.” Ginny blinked at the unfamiliar term. What could Harry possibly be talking about? Harry continued, “It’s just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…”
“One of us? You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?”
Ginny wanted badly to yell back, to inform Voldemort that sixteen years of escaping him could not possibly be an accident. She was afraid though to break Harry’s concentration. He seemed so intent on Voldemort and it occurred to Harry that it had always been like this. No matter what, Voldemort had always been first in Harry’s mind.
She turned her attention back to Harry as he said, “Accident was it, when my mother died to save me?” Her gaze was cut off from Harry as Voldemort passed in front of her. Involuntarily, she took a step back. “Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn’t defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?” His voice rose with every word until it became a battle cry.
“Accidents! Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!”
“You won’t be killing anyone else tonight,” Harry said confidently and Ginny was reassured. “You won’t be able to kill any of them ever again. Don’t you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people-”
“But you did not!”
“-I meant to and that’s what did it. I’ve done what my mother did. They’re protected from you. Haven’t you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are biding?” Ginny recalled the silence spells and the curse put on Neville and how they had broken with just a little determination. She smiled to herself; she hadn’t realized it at the time but of course it had been Harry.
“You can’t torture them,” Harry continued. “You can’t touch them. You don’t learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?” The name that had once possessed Ginny hit harsh on her ears. She gulped, stifling back a sob.
“You dare-”
“Yes, I dare. I know things you don’t know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don’t. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?”
At first, Voldemort was silent. Ginny was sure that the surrounding crowd were certain that it would all end there. That Voldemort would shout a curse and Harry would fall, for real this time. But she knew Tom Riddle as no one else had known him. He had hated those moments when she had known more than he. He couldn’t stand the possibility that Harry had a final secret.
True to her thoughts, he asked, his tone jeering, “Is it love again? Dumbledore’s favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter, and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?”
“Just one thing.”
Ginny yearned to run forward and take the curse meant for Harry, to prove to Voldemort that someone loved Harry enough to take his place. She was sure that Ron and Hermione felt the same way. But it was Harry said- it had to be him.
“If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?”
“I believe both,” said Harry. For the first time, Voldemort’s mask of taunting broke and real shock flitted across his face. It was instantly gone. Voldemort began to laugh. Ginny shook with fear; the humorless, insane sound was far more terrifying than his screams.
“You think you know more magic than I do? Than I, Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?”
“Oh, he dreamed of it. But he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you’ve done.”
“You mean he was weak! Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!”
“No,” Harry said simply. “He was cleverer than you, a better wizard, a better man.”
“I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!”
“You thought you did,” Harry agreed. “But you were wrong.”
The crowd stirred as the hundreds of watchers drew breath as one. Ginny looked from Voldemort to Harry, praying that Harry would explain further.
“Dumbledore is dead!” Voldemort shouted. The reminder pained Ginny- the man who had forgiven her weakness with the diary would never again walk the castle grounds. “His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!”
“Yes, Dumbledore’s dead, but you didn’t have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant.”
Voldemort froze, his wand poised to strike. “What childish dream is this?”
“Severus Snape wasn’t yours,” said Harry. “Snape was Dumbledore’s, Dumbledore’s from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can’t understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?”
Ginny was shocked. Snape, Dumbledore’s killer, was truly working for him? She thought back to all the times over the year that she had made life difficult for the new headmaster and she wondered if she had been right.
When Voldemort was silent, Harry continued, “Snape’s Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother’s, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized, he asked you to spare her life, didn’t he?”
Voldemort’s nostrils flared and Ginny knew that Harry spoke the truth. “He desired her, that was all,” Voldemort stated. “But when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him-”
“Of course he told you that,” Harry said matter-of-factly, almost like he was talking to a small child. “But he was Dumbledore’s spy from the moment you threatened her, and he’s been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!”
“It matters not!” Voldemort cackled. “It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore’s, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape’s supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!
“Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy- I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore’s last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!”
Ginny’s fears turned to terror and horror. She knew the legends about the Elder Wand. Every young child had heard the stories in a fairy tale, The Tale of the Three Brothers. She had never believed them to be true but if the legends were real, and Voldemort wasn’t lying, then she didn’t know how Harry could escape from this one. The Elder Wand was unbeatable.
Harry nodded and agreed, “Yeah it did. You’re right. But before you try to kill me, I’d advise you to think about what you’ve done. Think and try for some remorse, Riddle.”
Ginny was just as confused about the turn in conversation as Voldemort was. “What is this?” he asked. His pupils contracted. His skin tightened and turned white. His hand trembled on his wand. Even more than earlier, he seemed shocked. Ginny could sense that the battle was drawing to a close and she wanted to shout a warning.
“It’s your one last chance,” Harry said quietly so that Ginny had to strain to hear. “It’s all you’ve got left. I’ve seen what you’ll be otherwise. Be a man. Try. Try for some remorse.”
Voldemort repeated, “You dare-”
“Yes, I dare, because Dumbledore’s last plan hasn’t backfired on me at all. It’s backfired on you, Riddle.” After a moment of silence, Harry continued, “That wand still isn’t working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.”
“He killed-”
For the first time, Harry sounded impatient, as he retorted, “Aren’t you listening Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore’s death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand’s last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand’s power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!”
“But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand! I stole the wand from its last master’s tomb! I removed it against its last master’s wishes! Its power is mine!” Voldemort said maliciously.
“You still don’t get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn’t enough! Holding it, using it, doesn’t make it really yours. Didn’t you listen to Ollivander? ‘The wand chooses the wizard.’ The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world’s most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance… The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy.”
As one, the hundreds of heads in the Great Hall swiveled to look at Draco Malfoy. He looked shocked at the power he had been given. Ginny frowned, as she looked at Malfoy. Harry had said that Malfoy was the owner of the Elder Wand, not is. But Voldemort seemed to not have picked up on the semantic. Perhaps she was reading too far into it.
“But what does it matter?” Voldemort asked softly, voice almost a snake-like hiss. “Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel on skill alone and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy.”
“But you’re too late. You’ve missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him.” Harry’s hand twitched on his wand and everyone’s gaze fell on it.
Ginny sucked in a breath. Harry couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he did.
“So it all comes down to this, doesn’t it?” whispered Harry. “Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does…” He paused and every person leaned in, hanging on his every word. “I am the true master of the Elder Wand.”
Voldemort screamed, “Avada Kedavra!”
Harry yelled, “Expelliarmus!”
Golden flames shot up from the ground where the spells collided. The Elder Wand flew from Voldemort’s hand, spinning towards its master. Harry caught it as Voldemort’s curse rebounded. Voldemort fell backward, hitting the floor finally.
The Great Hall lit up as the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon.
